Blue Ridge
by Nicknyte
Summary: Two dedicated YoRHa aviators stationed aboard the Aircraft Carrier Blue Ridge II fight mission at sea, air, and land in defense of humanity. This is the tale of pilots Mackerel and Strip, before the demise of the Aircraft Carrier.
1. Oath Team

"Remember Normandy, 9B-N!" were the first words that were shown to my interface as I was first booted into active duty. I was a special designation of YoRHa soldier, or should I say YoRHa sailor. I was created to be a supporting member of the Aircraft Carrier Blue Ridge II. She's a beautiful ship, painted stark black and can hold many supporting aircraft, amphibious vehicles, and a horrific display of missiles and torpedoes to fight against machines: on sea, air, and on land. The ship, however, does not fly the flag of YoRHa, but is a cooperative ship created by the Resistance to fight any threat to humanity, for that reason, YoRHa was given permission to be stationed on her.

The YoRHa Naval Service, the service that I was commissioned under, is considered a huge honor to be a part of, and all units designed for fairing the seas have gyroscopic modifications to handle movement aboard any vessel, no matter how rough the seas.

The sailors aboard the Blue Ridge II, or BR2 for short, were dedicated admirers of Naval customs of the late 20th century. Her namesake is based off the original USS Blue Ridge, a ship that was commissioned when humans lived on earth 10000 years ago. The Commanding Officer of our ship stated that humans did these traditions in a form of uniformity and esprit-de-corps, and as sailors, and warfighters, we should emulate the "Noble" traditions of the former seafaring humans.

"When a threat happens, the first thing the YoRHa Commander will say is, "Where are our carriers?" she would occasionally state during the crew's all-hands. "We need to be there to bring the fight to the machines, and it'd be a cold day in Hell before I give up this ship to the Machines!" The crew would cheer wildly upon hearing her iconic words.

My role is one of the Flight Unit "flyboys". I have a partner, another 9B-N, that tends to be a bit more aloof than me, but in the end, he's my wingman, and I'd like it no other way. In line with old American Naval traditions, we don't call each other by our unit names, since, we both have the same unit type. We call each other by our callsigns. I'm Mackerel, and he's Strip. Together, we form the 31st American Naval Flight Unit, Oath Team.


	2. Chapter 1: Battle Stations

Naval terms:

Bulkhead: A wall.  
Overhead: Ceiling  
Deck: Ground  
Hangar Bay: Place to put all the planes.  
All-Hands: When a Commanding officer orders the entire crew to listen to him/her regarding ship and crew information.  
Hatch: Door  
Stateroom: Officer's sleeping area  
Rack: Bed  
Liberty Call: Everyone can leave the ship (who doesn't have watch).  
Watch: Where you do your job for a couple hours.  
Forward: Front of ship.  
Aft: Rear of the ship.  
Port: Left side of ship facing forward.  
Starboard: Right side of ship facing forward.

~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o

"Enemy contact at heading 120 at 15 nautical miles. "General Quarters, General Quarters! All hands man your battle stations. The flow of traffic is up and forward on the starboard side, down and aft on the port side." The voice spoke from the ship's announcing system.

The sounds of a bell ringing over and over again signaled everyone to report to their Battle Stations. Like a well-oiled machine, everyone knew what they had to do. Firefighting lockers were manned, gunners were on the flight deck. Medical personnel readied stretchers, repair vaccines, and unit repairmen at the ready, and members already had emergency provisions ready in the crew lounges. What seemed like chaos, was an organized effort to get the entire ship on the same page.

Down each passageway, you could hear various yells and grunts, as people tried to lock down the ship to lower levels if the ship were to flood due to a casualty. They were not easy to shut nor were they easy to open, thus the androids had to work together to keep the ship afloat. Even with superior processing power, in the end, an android's worst enemy is water.

"At time 6 minutes, all fittings have been set aboard Blue Ridge II."  
The crew was able to protect the massive ship from flooding. A few androids sat on the deck to take a break after the extenuating maneuver.

"Incoming missile from the starboard side! Brace to port!"

The break was short-lived. The entire ship placed their hands on whatever bulkhead they could find. Many didn't even have a bulkhead to grab, but they scrambled to grab something. Legs split apart to absorb shock, they braced for the inevitable...

Various explosions played on the intercom. There was no real threat here. It was a drill, to prepare the ship for the real thing. A role playing exercise to prepare the ship for the worst case scenario: that the ship would actually fight the enemy.

"Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire on the flight deck between frames 300-321! Investigators out!"

Although the fire was not real, the crew acted like it was actually happening. Firefighters near the fire put on gear to protect them from the heat and smoke. They downloaded everything they needed to know about how to fight a fire, but they needed experience, something a book couldn't provide.

Most of the crew did not have to react, but stood by if the fire fighting team would fail and be overcome by the "fire".

Two members of the crew did not have any responsibilities during General Quarters. Those members were Oath Team.

"Another dumbass drill we have to sit through," said Mackerel who was residing in his stateroom leaning against the bulkhead.

"I mean, it's alright. I'd prefer to do this ALL day: wasting time away." said Strip, laying in his rack, looking at the ceiling, and using his arms behind his head as a pillow.

"Yea, you'd do better as a rusted heap of metal."

The stateroom was not large. It was only large enough for two androids to move around. There were two racks mounted on the bulkhead where Mackerel and Strip slept on. Strip slept on top, while Mackerel slept on the bottom. Various cabinets were lined opposite of the room with a folding office table that required to be used only when standing. Depending on which one of the 9B-N's anyone spoke to, either they would say they loved the close space, or hated the lack of breathing room.

Mackerel closed a laptop that was situated on the folding table, placed it in one of the cabinets, and returned the folding table back against the bulkhead. He took half a step, and sat on the middle of his rack.

"Whatever, Mack, we are stuck pier-side doing drills. We do this every week. Once you come to accept it, it ain't so bad. Hey, I know! Go grab one of those old war books from the ship's library. Those are pretty interesting."

Mackerel has had this conversation too many times before. "One, it's GQ. There is craziness out there, you idiot. Secondly, books are boring. Why should I take the time to read something when I can just download it immediately? That's how we learned our job at the Bunker. Ugh. I miss my room there. Tons of files to learn from. They even have the flight simulator!"

"Sounds like excuses to me, bro. "

"ARGH." Mackerel proceeded to pick up his pillow and started to attack Strip with as much force an android can use to assault someone...with a pillow.

"Ow. OW. Stop! What I do?! Chill out!"

"No! For some reason, I feel a lot better! Lay there until I feel better!"

Strip grabs his pillow and uses it to block Mackerel oncoming attacks. Mackerel's pillow, however, begins to rip, and less than two second later, the pillow flies to pieces.

A knock on the compartment door is heard, followed by a female android in firefighting gear. Instead of knocking, announcing why they were entering, and walking in, instead they just barged in after the knock.

"Oh um, oh my, I...uh...heard struggling? Um..." She definitely overheard the wrong part of the conversation.

As the feathers drifted slowly to the deck, the two members of Oath Team were frozen in place, surprised by the stammering intruder. Strip quickly gathered his composure.

"Sorry there. As you can see, there's no fire here. Continue your investigation." Strip calmly said to the android at the door.

"Ye-ye-yes, Sir!"

With that, the door shuts. With the small room covered in a bed of feathers, Strip breaks out into laughter, while Mackerel stands there, with deflated pillow in hand, with a new mess he has to clean up.

"Just get me to the damn sky already."

~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o~#-o

After General Quarters, an all-hands was called by the Commanding Officer to speak to the crew. All the different departments gathered in the ship's expansive hangar bay to hear her speak. Many different divisions of the ship stood in formation awaiting words from her, about 1500 androids. There was a podium placed in the middle of the crew's formation, like a crowd around a stage.

Medical department wore white doctor coats, with the exception of a handful of YoRHa Type H classes, which wore black ones instead.

Radar, Propulsion, Combat, Defense, Supply, and Deck Divisions wore similar blue coveralls, but with YoRHa representatives in black.

Air department were an array of colored vests each with different jobs to support all the jets that existed aboard the ship. The YoRHa component wore black coveralls with yellow vests, commonly called "bumblebees". They cleared the YoRHa flight units for launch.

All androids who flew jets aboard the ship wore the standard green flight suits worn by aviators in the late 20th century. The exception to this were anyone who were part of YoRHa Naval Service. They wore a black variance of the same flight suit, and wore a black garrison cap with the YoRHa insignia on the left side. Mackerel and Strip, being of the same model and type, looked very similar except for differences in hair. They both had dark auburn hair. Mackerel's wore a crew cut, while Strip preferred a high and tight haircut. However, their personalities is what really stood them apart. While Strip preferred to be well grounded, and relaxed, Mackerel loved the skies. His home was in the clouds, fighting the enemy, providing support to the ship. It made him feel alive. Anything else was an annoyance, including this gathering.

As the CO arrived, everyone stood at attention. Silence was heard among the deck. She walked slowly to the podium stairs, and every click of her high heels resonated the hangar bay.

As she stood in the middle of the podium, you could see her full appearance. She had a dark complexion. She had silver hair and a scar that went from her eyebrow down to her jaw. She wore the uniform of American Naval officer. A white cover, black blouse, white undershirt, and black tie composed the top half of her uniform. The bottom half was a knee length, skin hugging skirt, with pantyhose covering the legs. She carried a rapier on her side, and made sure she had white gloves to grab it if needed. She always appeared with an aggressive grin.

"At ease!" Everyone relaxed themselves and listened attentively.

"We have completed our last exercise before taking the beautiful girl out to sea. You have all performed outstandingly. As we prepare to head out, I want you to know that we are still going to be busy out there. We have to prepare our ship to perform flight operations for training. After that, our ship will be certified by the Fleet Command to bring the fight to the enemy!"

Roars of cheers and applause. YoRHa members remained silent.

"With that in mind, I have a new standing order I will establish today."

The CO ordered that all androids aboard the vessel would observe the rule of "ship before self" during another all-hands. It consisted of all androids being open to opinions, feelings, and thoughts towards the progression of helping every able body in making the ship complete it's mission. If someone was helping the cause, they would be rewarded. If they were heel, they would be reprimanded.

The speech was long-winded, and Mackerel kept his faux indifference barely in check. He wanted to grab that book Strip suggested and be done with his day. Strip held the same face, but a small smile cracked from his lips as he heard the CO talk.

"Trust your heart. Be yourself. Help others! Get emotional! Fight for humanity! This is "Ship before Self"! We are not machines, we are living, thinking beings capable of understanding the measure of the life of another member of the crew. A loss of one member of this ship is one too many."

Her words motivated many on the crew. A few blew it off as hot air coming from a frivolous commander, YoRHa units stationed aboard mostly.

"That means you YoRHa are ordered to have emotions, per my standing order! Aboard my vessel, you will comply to our rules!"

The last bit had the ship laughing on its sides. Most of the YoRHa aboard were already ignoring the order from the Bunker to forbid emotions in private, since Command's reach was far from BR2, but this made it official. YoRHa androids could be themselves.

"WOOOOOOOOOOO!" Strip was ecstatic. He gave a have-five to another non-YoRHa aviator that knew Strip actual deposition, instead of his fake mask he was always ordered to wear. He pumped a fist into the air.

It made no difference to Mackerel.

"Just be careful not to damage our pillows during your private pillow fights. We know YoRHa have feelings."

Mackerel's face suddenly wrinkled upon hearing that. "That one female...Damn it," he thought to himself. The crew's roaring laughter could be hear outside by the pier.

"Joking aside, make sure you are prepared before we set off. We embark at 0600 tomorrow. That's all I have. Liberty call, liberty call!"

With that, most of the androids went off the ship. Strip went out and hung out with some other YoRHa from different divisions. Mackerel went to the library, supply to grab a new pillow, and back to his stateroom. He had grabbed a book called Ender's Game. He lied in his rack, still covered with some remnants of broken feathers, and went into sleep mode after reading a few chapters.

He loved going out to sea, because when he was out there, the next best thing came after it.

The sky.


	3. Chapter 2: Sortie

A flight unit hovered high above the Blue Ridge II. At 30,000 feet, it could see all friendlies and enemies above the field. A smile formed on the face of the flight unit's pilot.

"This is the AWACS War Bat. All aircraft and flight units are clear to take off. Be safe out there!"

"Roger." said Strip and Mackerel in unison.

The two member of Oath Team were ready to sortie out. Recent reports have stated there was a large number of machine lifeforms who had caught wind of ships movement, and were sending a large force to take down the ship. Thanks to the efforts of the ever vigilant Scanner types from YoRHa, it was not a surprise attack.

As various futuristic versions of late 20th century planes were shot off the catapults, the YoRHa flight units were on standby, awaiting the rest of the jets to be launched to the air. They were stationed just aft of the ship's island. Their shooter was next to them.

"You boys ready to go?" the shooter said to the pair in a southern drawl.

"Aye!"

"Good. I want ya'll to understand that these babies cost about more than you in manufacturing, so don't go wrecking them. There's this one YoRHa guy on the mainland that keeps wrecking them. Don't be that guy. Do you hear me, Strip?"

"Aye, 11D." said Strip. Strip was reminded why he had his current name.

"Alright, let's do this." spoke Mackerel.

The shooter placed his fingers to his ear which had a communication device on it. He pressed the button to allow the bridge to hear him.

"Oath Team ready for takeoff."

"Aye. You are cleared for launch. Takeoff. Good luck, Oath."

With that the shooter crouched to a kneeling position and pointed straight up. The moment that the shooter's index finger reached its peak, Oath Team were off to the skies.

*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*~o~*

The skies were blue up there. The ever permeating gray haze that enveloped the air on the ground stayed well below the cloud cover. Here, the cold air allowed for sharp turns and maneuverability.

However, the enemy knew this.

Machines always took to below the cloud cover. They knew that they stood no chance against jets and flight units in a place where they could not hide easily, so they stayed below. This was a fortunate opportunity for anyone flying these skies, as they could be easily used as a transportation medium to get to the battle faster. Mackerel enjoyed being up there. He liked the change opposed to the constant fog of war that blanketed the lower atmosphere. It was his favorite part of being a Naval unit: seeing any type of endless blue.

"This is Warbat. Prepare to drop below cloud cover and prepare for battle."

"Roger. Oath Team 1 to Warbat, do we have intel on the enemies we are facing?" said Mackerel.

"Yea. It's not nice. We have at least 100 small fries, 20 medium fries, and 2 whoppers."

"2 WHOPPERS? WITH JUST US?!" screamed Strip.

"Of course not. You will have support from the Happy Pirates squadron...and don't scream over comms, Oath Team 2!"

"Roger."

Oath Team began to descend below the cloud cover. Below, an endless ocean stretched out in front of them, but in the far off horizon, they could see what they came for. A large flying formation of small fliers, medium fliers, and 2 Goliath fliers.

As Oath Team sped towards the battle, they found themselves flanked by the four members of the Happy Pirates formation. They all flew in F-14B's.

"Hoo! Look at that. Oath Team in the flesh." said the Flight Leader over the comms.

"What do you want, Happy Pirates 1?" asked Oath Team 1 in a cold voice.

"Oh? You don't sound too happy there, Mack. It's all good. I didn't mean to hurt your _feelings_ when I told you to eat that piece of fish a couple months back. Sorry about that!"

The flight leader spoke in a condescending tone. You could hear the laughter of the other three pilots in the squadron. Mackerel was not too fond of his callsign, or how he got it, as he almost ended up dying because of it.

" **What** do you want, Happy Pirates 1?"

"I just wanted to wish you well on this sortie, that's all. Of course, if you feel like going back to the ship, well, by all means go, there is no shame in being a coward."

The laughter erupts over the comms again.

"Hey! Leave him alo-"

"Cut the chatter! Enemy approaches in 5 klics!"

"Alright, alright. Take care, Oath Team"

As the squadron branched off into a finger-four formation to the rear, Mackerel wondered if the enemy was in front, or behind him.  
"Don't let em get to you, Mack. I'm always behind you."

"Thanks, Strip."

Alarms started going off on the AWACS panel.

"This is Warbat! High energy signature coming from the enemy. Repeat, high energy signature coming from the enemy! We have no visuals! "

Below the enemy formation, steam started to arise from the sea, followed by a large red beam. The beam headed in the direction of Oath Team, but passed by them.

It hit Happy Pirates 4 directly.

Above the waterline from where the beam was shot, peaked the head of an Engels.


End file.
